Anthony Carson is a rather mundane fiction writer whose only goal is to create an arguably good masterpiece - even if it means getting exploited by his predatory agent. But when fate led him to Aegir - an eccentric cat-man - a fictitious reality aw...
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THE SKY is gloomy as he sets his golden orbs on it. He could see the dark ominous clouds of the sky that were threatening to shed tears and the harsh gust of wind accompanied it; slapping his skin and his white polo shirt, seemingly angry and the cause of the vast sky's melancholy. The cloud is like him and the wind must be someone who'll wake him up from his reveries; to open his eyes to the reality that he's indeed a pitiful person.
The sky must be sympathizing with him, and if the sky will cry, maybe it's better to weep as well. Maybe they're on the same page.
Anthony looked at his reflection at a boutique's glass. His swollen eyes with big eye bags, cracked and dry lips-overall a hideous haggard appearance. He sacrificed sleep to finish his new manuscript and even skipped to bathe and eat. He exercised everything his brain could offer but in the end, he was rejected.
He sighed.
Rejection seemed to be his death, his agent, his murderer and he already died numerous times.
He recalled what had happened a while ago.
"This is trash! How many times do I have to tell you to give up writing fiction if you're as bad as rotten food! " His agent slammed the flash drive containing his work on the big glass table; eyes flaring and face painted with pure disgust.
He could only lower his head as he tried to stop himself from trembling. His heart hurt, he could feel his brain throbbing and his eyes warm - tears would soon flow.
This scenario is somewhat deja vu - no, it's been his nth time coming back here. Showing his new plot, his new hard work but the only ending of his tragic story is being in pain-the pain of being branded as not good, as useless.
"If you continue to be this incompetent, stop writing and start working in a garbage chute! "
The words lashed his soul. He felt a weight on his chest and a lump in his throat. As a second passed, the weight got heavier until he could no longer hold it in. A lone tear escaped from his eye. Another one dripped. One more followed. Tears kept pouring andpouring 'til it became a storm.
